


stay home

by sxetia



Category: Nana (Anime & Manga)
Genre: Emotional Constipation, F/F, Femslash, Fluff, Gen, Mutual Pining, Pining, Pre-ship, it’s mutual pining but you can’t tell since it’s from Nana’s POV
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-07
Updated: 2020-04-07
Packaged: 2021-03-02 04:55:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,120
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23529526
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sxetia/pseuds/sxetia
Summary: Moments like this forever.
Relationships: Nana Komatsu & Nana Oosaki, Nana Komatsu/Nana Oosaki
Comments: 4
Kudos: 17





	stay home

“Hey, Nana... dry my my hair!” 

Hachiko’s cry was every bit as much of a request as it was a means to announce her presence — bathroom door flung open with clouds of steam clinging to her little body like a halo. Her little puppy-dog grin was barely visible beneath the towel twice her size that draped over her body like a shawl.

The only thing that Nana could offer in a retort was a quizzical stare, brow arched as a little frown bent pale lips. “Huh?” 

“Dry my hair!” Hachiko parroted, as if she had been practicing it. 

Nana slouched forward and let a lanky limb fall over her bent knee, head tilting just over to her right. As endeared as she often was by Hachi’s own particular brand of eccentricity... sometimes the little thing’s genuine enthusiasm for who she believed Nana to be puzzled her. How the hell could anybody be so happy just that she existed? 

She didn’t even have to _try_ around Hachiko. She always had to try. 

Sometimes she could even humor the thought that Hachiko liked who she was, and not the protective mask she let everybody around her see. Her first instinct was always to deflect it, push Hachi away. “You’re a big girl. Why don’t you dry it yourself?” 

Her little jeer was like a brick through glass. The angelic smile Hachi had plastered on her face immediately broke into pieces, only to be shoved back together in a weapons-grade pout. Her lithe arms tugged the towel tighter around her body, and a few strands of soaked red hair fell right over her face. 

“It’s not as good whenever Nana doesn’t do it!” 

Hachiko’s sharp yelps bounced off the claustrophobic walls of Apartment 707, each syllable seeming to rock the entirety of her form as she bounced to every word. Nana winced, but before she could scold the puppy she found herself cut off.

“I can never get it as straight and neat as you can,” Hachiko interjected. “My hair always curls at the ends and looks messy, the way I do it. I have to use hair clips all the time and it’s so unfashionable!” 

Nana frowned. “I like the hair clips. I think it’s cute when your hair curls out.” 

It was an affirmative protest, as if her possessive feelings over Hachiko’s body and heart would mean anything to rob the girl of her agency. Hachiko didn’t seem to mind, though: her eyes widened a little and her jaw dropped as she crept forward, bare feet drumming pitter-patter rhythms against wooden flooring. Drops of water fell from her body to stain the ground as she walked. 

“W—... well, I still want Nana to do it.” One of her toes stood tip-top on the floor, digging in as if she were trying to act demure for a boy. She’s always thought she would marry Nana if she were a man, didn’t she...? 

Instinctually, Nana wanted to tease or dismiss her, but the words wouldn’t come whenever she stared up at Hachiko. She looked like an angel, complete with the light and fog of their bathroom as her halo. 

She couldn’t let herself throw away a moment like this. It took a minute for her to realize she was staring slack-jawed; she quickly corrected herself and feigned an amused smirk. “All right, all right... come here.” Nana sat up and spread her legs out to pat the space in front of her, Vivienne ring tapping against the wooden booth seat. 

Hachiko released an indescribable noise, high-pitched and every bit as sing-song as it was harsh. Some thought Hachiko’s voice was annoying, an opinion amplified by the frequency and volume at which she spoke, but every time Nana got a reaction like that out of her it made her heart flutter. She hopped right down and landed on her butt with a thud, right in front of Nana. 

After turning to face the table she pulled the towel-shawl off her head and then from her body, sitting utterly naked and half in Nana’s lap. 

Nana felt like some kind of womanizing diva from a movie. She wondered if her fans all interpreted her like this — hell, she _hoped_ so. 

The girl’s head tilted so that her scalp full of dark auburn hair was tilted right at Nana, some of it dripping down onto the other’s clothes. Nana took the towel in both hands and placed one of them upon the base of Hachiko’s head, with the other clasped around one lock of hair. She pulled, squeezing to let out the excess moisture in doing so, and released before reaching for another lock. 

“Why’re you so fussy about how your hair looks tonight, hm?” Half teasing, half nagging, tainted by genuine curiosity. “You’d better not do anything but stay home... late as it is you should be sleeping right now. Work, rem-em-ber?” She rapped her knuckle against Hachiko’s head in sync with those last three syllables, and carefully smiled. 

Hachiko whined in protest, body squirming at the chiding and the knock of fingers on her temple. “Y-yeah, I know...! I just wanted to look nice...” 

“What’s the big occasion, hm?” Nana absently asked as she worked at another bunch of hairs. So soft, so pretty. 

Hesitation and long silence, which Nana didn’t dare break. Hachiko shifted before tilting her head down — “Hey, careful, I don’t want to pull your hair,” said Nana — and mumbled something under her breath. 

“...any time I get to spend with Nana is a big occasion.” 

Nana stopped in her tracks and stared down at the girl, bug-eyed and uncertain of herself. Sometimes, she wondered if she was reading too deeply into things, or if she was perverse for even looking at Hachiko like _that._ Then, in times like this, she hated herself for being too much of a coward to make things official. 

This was not how _best friends_ acted. You didn’t have your _best friend_ sit in your lap, in the nude, and dry their hair. 

There was more than that, right? There had to have been. 

For once, Nana did not blow off Hachiko’s affections, nor did she resort to her usual defense of acting tough and cool. She dropped the towel and wrapped her spindly, spider-like arms around Hachiko’s tiny body and squeezed her close, chin resting atop Hachiko’s head full of half-wet hair. Hachiko squeaked in surprise and from the force of Nana’s hold (she held on tight for she feared letting go), but didn’t dare protest. 

She wished this moment would last forever. That was her dream — to always feel like this, always have moments like those. 

“...yeah. It’s a big occasion for me, too.”


End file.
